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Legends of Iconoclast Part 1 : Scourge of Humanity

Read this file before starting the game.

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Cheap vodka never tasted so good. Most people drank to forget their troubles, 
but Logan knew that no matter how much he drank, the memories would never 
fade. Not even time itself could heal his wounded soul.

1918 hasnt been a good year for you so far has it? asked the bar patron 
sitting beside him.

Logan set down his empty glass. Obviously not, he replied flatly. You have 
no idea what Ive been through.

The patron offered a sympathetic smile. Care to bend my ear? Want to talk to 
me about it?

Logan shook his head. Trust me, you dont want to know!

Other than the two of them and the bartender, there were only about a dozen 
others in the bar. Some were drinking and others were listening to the radio. 
These days, the Great War was among the biggest news. Newspapers and radio 
broadcasts kept people updated on what was happening, who was dying, and what 
was being destroyed.

Everybody! a man called from that table. Listen to this! He turned up the 
volume so everyone could hear. Everyone was silent.

Just a few hours ago, London was under siege by a mysterious force. Hundreds 
were slaughtered, including men, women, and even children. Witnesses reported 
figures clad in robes 

Logan lifted his head up straight upon hearing this. It couldnt be! He thought 
to himself.

The men and women in the bar kept silent as they continued to listen to the 
radio. The broadcast was the only sound in the whole room. Logan could sense 
the tension and fear.

 as they gunned down helpless citizens without mercy. There have also been
reports of the undead and other monstrosities walking amongst this unknown 
army. The English forces were powerless to stop them. Reports pinpointed that 
the attack came from a mysterious ship that appeared out of nowhere within 
the  

Turn it off! the bartender said as he dried a glass. I dont want to hear 
anymore of it!

I can say the same thing! Logan muttered to himself as the radio was shut 
off.

"It's been happening all over the world for the past couple of weeks," the 
patron next to Logan said. "Paris, Rome, Toyko, Moscow, Sydney, and now London! 
Where will they strike next?"

I hope this madness ends soon, the bartender said. War is the scourge of  

Dont say that word! Logan suddenly shouted. Everyone looked up from their 
drinks or away from the radio. He suddenly felt very foolish. Here he was only 
moments ago simply minding his own business, and now all eyes were on him as 
if he were some kind of lunatic who escaped from the asylum.

I-Im sorry, Logan stammered. Im just not feeling well these days.

Thats an understatement, the bartender said. Youve been coming in here 
day after day for the past three weeks since the start of September. I have 
yet to see an improvement in your mood.

Logan paid the bartender for his drink and hurried out of the bar, ignoring 
the stares of the other patrons before they resumed drinking and listening to 
the news.

					*

Scourge. Logan hated that one word more than any other in the English language.
Not as much as he hated a certain name.

Garibaldi.

Only a year ago, while working at the gunsmith shop owned and formerly managed 
by his father who died fighting in the Great War, Logan had been visited by a 
mysterious man dressed in black and brown. From the look of his clothing, 
Logan guessed that he was a religious man.

He introduced himself as Garibaldi. Logan had never seen this man before, but 
the name was familiar. He had first heard the name from reading a newspaper 
article weeks ago where a group of inmates had mysteriously vanished from a 
German prison. Garibaldi had come to visit those he claimed were friends of 
his. No tunnel had been dug. No clue as to how they had vanished. Even 
Garibaldi had been nowhere to be found. It was as if they had disappeared into 
thin air. 

Garibaldi told Logan that he was recruiting people for an organization 
dedicated to fighting the evils of the world. This organization was an army 
known as the Scourge. Anyone could join up, no matter who they were. Even 
criminals and women could sign on. It was a place where one could make a name 
for himself or herself, promised fame, power, and glory. Being only 
twenty-three and with the shop doing poorly, Logan accepted Garibaldis offer.

At the time, joining the Scourge was the best choice Logan had ever made. 
Thousands of members worldwide and even from other dimensions united to form 
a powerful army. Long ago, the ancient cathedral had been a place of worship,
but only recently had been converted into their home base, which led Logan to 
suspect that perhaps Garibaldi was not as religious as he believed him to be. 
Somewhere else in the land, the Scourge were building a new fortress to fend 
off invaders and house their growing numbers.

Logan had always been skilled in the use of firearms. As a youth, he shot up
glass bottles set up on the fence back home for fun. So it was no surprise 
that within only one year, he had gained respect among his comrades among the 
Scourge as one of their top sharpshooters.

Logan had made a few friends among the Scourge, but none more closer to him 
than a woman named Katrina.

Katrina. It still hurt him to think of her name.

He hailed from Romania, she from England. Despite the distance between the two 
countries, there was none between them in their relationship. It was only a 
matter of time before friendship blossomed into love.

But then, Katrina had made a terrible discovery. Garibaldi was actually using 
the Scourge to wage war against humanity itself. Despite the fact that she was 
quite adept with a gun, her compassionate nature would not allow her to harm 
the innocent. When she voiced her concerns and objections to Garibaldi and 
decided to resign, he had her executed, branding her as a traitor and a coward.
Her fellow comrades pumped her full of buckshot and more lead than a pencil, 
and Logan himself was powerless to save her. She died in his arms.

Ever since that moment, Logan had hated everything about the Scourge. 

Upon returning home, the first thing he did was shatter the crystal cross 
amulet that Garibaldi had given him to allow him to travel between the 
Scourges home world and his own when he was first initiated. He did not 
intend to go back, ever.

					*

Logans apartment had only one room with a bed, a chest of drawers, two night 
tables, and a bookshelf. A poster for Jojo the idiot circus boy and the book 
signing of his autobiography hung near his bed. Downstairs was where the 
tenants went for their meals and their laundry. There were no windows to see 
the brown evening sky or mountains surrounding the small city.

On one of the night tables was a book. Inside, Logan found a photograph of a 
beautiful young woman his age. The photograph was in black and white, but 
Logan remembered she had chocolate brown hair tied back in a ponytail with 
green ribbon and blue eyes.

He opened a heart shaped locked around his neck and gazed upon a black and 
white photograph of the same woman within it. She had given him this locket as 
a token of her love for him so that he would forever hold her close no matter 
how great the distance between them.

Katrina Logan sighed. He kissed the woman on her lips and closed the book. 
Had fate not been so cruel, they would be engaged by now.

He had only set the book down when the sound of the town siren began to roar. 
With the Great War ravaging Europe, people had said it would only be a matter 
of time before the violence came here.

Outside, he heard the sounds of gunfire, screams of men and women followed, 
mixed with the groans and moans of the wounded and dying.

It couldn't be! It was just like the recent seige in London reported over the 
radio! Whatever had happened there was happening here now!

He felt his knees shaking as if they were made of jelly. They forced him to 
the floor as he clapped both hands over his ears and buried his face into the 
bed sheet. Even though it had only been three weeks, the memory of his 
beloveds execution burned fresh in his mind. How could he ever forget the 
sounds of her body being shot up and her cries of anguish?

I will never forgive any of you for this! he had told the execution squad 
and Garibaldi.

A pounding at the door forced him back to reality.

Open up Logan! I know youre in there!

What a time for my landlord to seek the monthly rent! Logan thought. 

Its not due for another week! he shouted.

Without warning, the door was flung open with a mighty crash. In strode a man 
dressed in a dark gray robe. With a gasp, Logan stepped backwards until his 
back brushed against the night table. Here he was, face to face with a member 
of the Scourge. This was one of the gunners who killed his beloved Katrina.

Now he knew the truth. The force behind the recent London siege and across the 
world was none other than the Scourge itself!

I knew Id find you here Logan, the Scourge soldier said with a smile.

So its true! Logan said, anger boiling his blood. The Scourge are waging 
war against humanity! Just as Katrina discovered. Fighting the evils of the 
world? Ha! What a joke!

Lord Garibaldi considers you far too valuable a resource to be merely tossed 
aside Logan, the Scourge soldier said. 

Logan knew from their time in training that he was a deadly shot with a 
Thompson machine gun. The very same weapon he had used to help end Katrina's 
life.

Join us and Garibaldi shall certainly reward you.

Logan felt the muscles in his face tense. Never! he said in a voice above a 
whisper. With one hand behind his back, he quietly opened the drawer.

Didnt I warn you and the others after Katrina died? he said. If you ever 
see me again, shoot first. Because if you dont, I will!

His hand searched through a pile of clothes until it closed itself around the 
handle of a double-barreled sawed off shotgun.

He saw the Scourge gunners eyes move to look at the open drawer and they 
widened. Logan knew he had to act quickly as the intruder now knew what he was 
doing and what he intended.

The gunners eyes narrowed as he reached into his robe and pulled out his 
Tommy gun. Have it your way traitor!

Logan pulled out his weapon and aimed it ahead as the Scourge gunman aimed the 
barrel of his own gun at him. He had never killed anything with a gun, but now 
he had no choice. His own life depended on it! 

Unlike Katrina, Logan thought, I will not die without a fight!